Silvermind
by Nemisor
Summary: Yami is a lonely master smith. He creates himself company, a silvermind called Bakura. But silver is a cold metal, and Bakura isn't much warmer. Can someone melt the silver heart? Onesided YY/YB, symbolic YB/YM


_A/N:The one-shot that's been bugging me, finally written. Yay!_

**Silvermind**

Far away form here, in a land unnamed, full of adventures and stories untold, lived a smith. But he was not an ordinary smith. He was a master smith.

His name was Yami and he lived alone in the mountains. His father had been a smith, and so had been his grandfather. In fact every man in his family had been a smith as far as his grandgrandgrandfather. And after Yami's father had died, Yami had became the new master smith.

Men in Yami's family had always been the best of the best, the finest smiths in the whole world. This was because over five hundred years ago one of Yami's ancestors had made a contract with a fire spirit. The rumor told that the spirit now resided in the family's forge. With the help of the spirit Yami could make the sharpest swords, the deadliest weapons and the most beautiful jewelry.

Yami had never actually seen the spirit, but it was enough if he believed that there was someone in their forge, keeping up the heat.

So well-known were Yami's skills that people traveled long distances to meet the master smith and paid ridiculous amounts of money to get what they wanted.

Despite the fame and money Yami felt alone. He worked long hours in his workshop, slept in a little hut near his workshop, woke up early, prayed for his ancestors and for the spirit asking for permission to use its powers and started working. He had no one to talk to expect the customers: rich men who were not interested in anyone else than themselves and warriors, who only talked about the things they had done or things they would do, heroic things.

Nobody was interested to hear what Yami had to say, if it didn't involve the things they wanted. Well actually he hardly ever had anything important to say, but it would be nice to know that when he had something to say someone would hear him.

One day it would all change. One day.

As always Yami woke up and walked to the shrine. He lighted a candle and prayed.

Inside the workshop the fire roamed in the forge. The spirit was listening carefully.

"Thank you for this beautiful day," Yami finished his prayer, bowed and got up.

"Excuse me."

Yami spun around, when he heard a voice behind him.

In front of him stood a young man with long blond hair and purple eyes. Dressed in dark robe, holding a golden rod in his hand and a book tugged under his other arm, the man was clearly a wizard. He smiled.

"You are Yami?" he asked.

Yami nodded.

"I was expecting someone older."

Yami was only little over twenty. He bowed clumsily and said:

"My age does not affect my skills, sir. I'm still a master smith no matter how young I might seem to be."

When dealing with wizards, certain carefulness was needed. They were powerful, no matter how young they were.

"Well at least you don't lack confidence. Good. I am Malik, and I have a task for you master smith. Can we talk about this inside?"

"Of course. Follow me, please."

Yami led his strange customer inside. He hardly ever got wizards as employers and to be honest he was curious to know what Malik wanted.

Malik looked around in Yami's workshop. His eyes studied the tools and materials with polite curiosity. Then he turned his gaze to the grand, black forge. Malik tilted his head. He eyed the forge, interested, even took a step closer, unaffected by the heat.

Yami cleared his throat, startling the young wizard. He might be a wizard, but this was still Yami's place.

"What can I do for you?" Yami asked.

"Oh yeah, that," Malik said, like he had for a moment forgot what he was here for. At that moment Malik didn't sound like a wizard, someone with wisdom and power. He sounded like a normal teenager.

Malik opened the book he had been holding, and with his golden rod he pointed at one of the pages.

"This is what I need."

It was a puzzle, shaped in form of a pyramid. In the middle of the thing was an eye, which was exactly like the one in Malik's rod.

Yami eyed the book.

"Millennium Puzzle... What is this for?" he asked.

"You do not need to know that," Malik answered simply.

Yami didn't' ask more.

"If you can give me what I desire the reward will be a great. However if you fail.."

Malik left the threat hanging in the air.

"I understand," Yami said, avoiding wizard's gaze.

"I give you month. No more, no less."

Yami nodded.

"You may keep the book. I see you in a month."

After saying that Malik left.

One month. That much time Yami had.

But he was in no hurry. He could do the Puzzle Malik wanted in one week. He had no need to start crafting it today. He could start tomorrow. Or the day after that. It didn't matter when would Yami start. It mattered if he got it ready before Malik came back.

Dealing with wizards was always risky business and most of the people, quite frankly, didn't want to be involved in anything that was associated to wizards in any way.

Yami was a expedition. He dealt with wizards with pleasure. The task wizards gave were always challenging, and something new. And this book Malik had gave him was interesting.

Yami sat down and opened the book form the very beginning. The book was about spirit magic. So was Malik a spirit mage? Yami raised his eyebrows to the introduction of the book.

If he was, what kind of spirits did he control? Yami wondered flipping through the pages.

Most of the objects requiring the powers of fire spirits were something crafted. This book was old. It had to be. It had to be from the times when every smith had his own spirit living inside his forge. That was long time ago. Nowadays spirits were a lot rarer and a lot harder to control.

Yami turned a page.

'Silverminds' announced the headline, with beautiful curved writing.

Yami blinked his eyes. He had never heard of silverminds, what ever they were. Feeling very curious, Yami continued reading.

'Silverminds', said the text, ' are living creatures crafted form silver.'

Living creatures? Like humans?

Yami read the whole text. There were models and difficult looking formulas. It seemed that it was not easy to create these silverminds. Yami took a piece of paper and a pen and started scribbling and counting.

Almost three hours later he finally saw the whole process, knew how it worked. Yami stared at the paper.

He could make a silvermind.

He had enough materials. He had the fire spirit. He had the skills.

He could make something living. A silvermind.

Yami shut the book.

Would it be right? To play a god, to try to?

And why hadn't he heard of these silverminds before? Why hadn't he seen one? Was it because no on had ever succeeded in doing one? Or was it because no one had ever dared to try?

Yami stroked the back of the book, a dreamy look in his eyes.

He would try.

He would try to make a silvermind.

And he would never be alone again.

* * *

Yami set himself to work. For three nights and three days he forged silver, chanted spells, prayed that everything would go well.

For three nights and three days the fire in the forge didn't cease and the spirit never stopped moving.

When the third day came to an end, Yami couldn't take it anymore. He took few steps away from the heat and fainted. The fire in the forge died down.

The silvermind was born.

_Who am I?_

_The heat. I was forged out of the heat. I was formed in heat. But I am cold. I do not feel the warmth, now that I'm away from the heat I was created in._

_They took a thought, mere thought, idea, and with it they forged my mind._

_They took a feeling, emotion, passion, ideal, love and with it they forged my heart._

_And my soul?_

_It was already there. It was in the metal. My soul is in the silver._

_I'm alive._

_Who am I?_

_A silvermind._

Yami woke up. He groaned. His head was throbbing with pain, and he was lying on the floor. How long had he been there? Well it didn't matter. Yami didn't want to open his eyes, not just yet, and face the day, or the night.

"Master," someone called.

Who was it? And why was it calling Yami master? He didn't recognize the voice.

"Master, wake up!"the voice persisted.

"Yeah, yeah, in a second;" Yami murmured.

He sat up and yelped, when his head exploded with pain as he got up. Yami held his head with his hands, and tried to will the pain go away.

"Master?" the voice asked, not a single drop of concern in it's voice.

When the pain had dulled a little, Yami dared to open his eyes. He let out a gasp at the sight before him.

There was a creature standing in front of him. It was like a human, but it definitely wasn't a human.

He had did it.

A silvermind.

The creature was a silvermind, a male one. He had long pointy hair, he was tall and slender. His skin was made out of silver, as were the clothes he was wearing. He had no eyes, just a little imprints where the eyes were supposed to be. Still he was staring, very intently at Yami.

He was beautiful.

Yami just had to admit it.

Silverminds were beautiful creatures.

"Master?"

"Don't call me master. Just Yami. It's enough," Yami said.

The silvermind nodded, then held out his hand. Yami grabbed it. The hand was cold, absolutely freezing. The silvermind pulled Yami up.

"Yami," he said, just trying out the new name of his master.

"Hi," said Yami. "So what's your name?"

The silvermind gave Yami a puzzled look.

"I'm silvermind," he said.

"I know that. But what is your name? What should I call you? I just can't go around and call you silvermind now can I?"

"I do not have name, Yami, you haven't give me one."

"Is that so? Well then I think I call you Bakura."

Bakura nodded.

Yami smiled to his creation. He wasn't alone anymore. He would never be.

* * *

The fire spirit woke up. It tilted its fiery head, and wondered where the smith was. He had not visited very often in last couple of days. The fire spirit hated to admit it, but the visits of the smith, the forging of stuff were the only really exiting events in its life.

The spirit sighed, curled up into a ball and fell asleep again.

The forge stayed cold.

* * *

Yami didn't try to wake up the spirit. In fact he probably didn't even notice that the spirit was asleep, and if he did, he didn't mind.

He spent more time with Bakura, and less time with his workshop, his customers. He even forgot his daily visits to the shrine.

Bakura fascinated him. The silvermind had his own way of thinking and his own way of doing stuff. Bakura didn't know much about the life, things around him. Still it felt like Bakura had walked forever on this planet. It must be the silver.

Bakura's beauty enchanted Yami. The silvermind didn't understand the concept of beauty, no matter how many times Yami tried to explain it.

But there were faults in this seemingly perfect and innocent creature too. And as the days passed, Yami saw them more clearly.

Bakura was cold. Like the metal he was made of, Bakura had no emotions. He didn't feel curiosity. He wasn't interested in anything. He looked at the world with emotionless eyes. He didn't feel empathy, didn't understand it. He didn't feel the sorrow, didn't understand death, didn't feel warmth.

The silver blood running in his veins was cold, almost like ice. And so was his cold silver heart.

Yami knew there was no way that Bakura would feel the affection for him, the same way he did for the silvermind. Because he didn't understand the meaning of affection either. Still in the back of his mind Yami hoped that someday, maybe someday, he could melt the silver heart.

* * *

One night, three and half weeks after the silvermind was created, Yami woke up in the middle of the night, and did not find Bakura anywhere. Afraid that the silvermind had ran away, Yami got up and ran outside. Fortunately that wasn't the case. Bakura was just outside the house, gazing at the full moon in the sky, which gave it's silver light to the ground, and to Bakura too.

"What's that?" Bakura pointed.

"That's moon," Yami told. "It's sign of night, just like the sun is a sign of the day. It's cold, and some people believe it's made out of silver."

"Like me?" the silvermind asked.

"Yes just like you," Yami said. "Now come inside, it's cold out here."

Bakura gave Yami a questioning look. Of course he didn't feel the chilly breeze, or the winter that was just around the corner.

"You go to sleep. I'll stay and watch the moon a little more," Bakura said.

Yami nodded.

"Ok."

He left the silvermind alone, to bathe in the moonlight.

In the morning Bakura was still there, eyes fixed to the sky. He was covered with morning dew, and some of the droplets were frozen on silver skin.

Yami smiled, and called Bakura inside.

Later that day, Yami heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," he ordered. "The door's open."

Yami didn't even bother to raise his gaze form the book he was reading.

He heard the footsteps walking towards him, and suddenly the book slammed itself shut. Yami raised his gaze. Malik was pointing towards the book with his rod.

"The month is over. Where is my Puzzle?" Malik asked.

"Huh?"

Malik's eyes immediately darkened.

"Where is my Puzzle?" he demanded.

"I...I..." Yami stammered.

He had forgot it. In fact he hadn't touched any of his forging tools after Bakura was created.

"You don't have it, do you?" Malik asked.

"No."

It was better to be truthful now, there was no way out of this situation, no way that Yami would avoid the punishment.

Malik raised his blond eyebrows.

"I'm disappointed, master smith. Very disappointed..."

Before Malik could continue, Yami heard the door opening. They both turned their heads to see who came through the door. Bakura stared blankly at Yami, crouched in the chair next to the cold forge. Then he turned his gaze to Malik.

"You.... You..." Malik was at loss of words. Gladly, he soon found his voice. "You created silvermind!" he screamed. "You idiot! Fool! Is this what you've been doing the past month?! You created a silvermind and let your fire die!"

"I... I don't understand..."

"I lend you my book, and this is how you reward me! You create a creature that isn't supposed to be!"

Malik started glowing. Even though Yami wasn't a wizard he could sense the magic circling around the man.

"I call the spirit of this house!" Malik yelled. "Come forward Marik! Your fires have ceased! Your contact is over!"

The fires started blazing inside the forge. Yami whimpered. Flames erupted form it. The air in the workshop turned into almost unbreathable. The whole building creaked. Yami tried to get up and run away. Suddenly all kind of stuff started falling from the ceiling, the whole building was about to collapse. One rafter dropped right in front of the door, blocking the exit, and the next one hit Yami, making him fall down, and trapping his legs under it.

Yami, without a change to escape, watched in horror as the flames took a form of a man.

"I am Marik," the fire spirit said. He turned his gaze to Yami. "I made a contact with your ancestor. I promised to help him. He promised to keep the flames alive. You have let the fire die. The contract is broken."

Then Marik turned to look at Malik.

"Wizard, you called me. I am at your service."

Malik smiled smugly and fixed his eyes to Yami's.

"You broke the promise you made. There is a price to pay from it. You are not leaving this house alive."

"No," Yami whispered, but his word went unheard under the sound of blazing fire.

"Marik, kill him!" Malik ordered.

"No Bakura help me!" Yami screamed in panic.

The two creatures seemed finally notice each other. Marik looked at Bakura, surprised. The silvermind's calm eyes studied the fire spirit.

"Kill him now!" Malik screamed.

"Help me!"

Marik's lips curved into an evil smile, Bakura mimicked him.

"No," two creatures said in same time.

"What?" Malik and Yami asked.

"We said no," Marik said.

He walked closer to Bakura, so now they were facing each other.

"It has been a while, since I've seen a silvermind," he said.

Bakura just stared at the fire spirit.

"It's cold," he said finally.

"Cold life," Marik continued.

"Cold heart."

"Silvermind."

Marik carefully held out his fiery hand, and placed it on Bakura's cheek. Something liquid and silver tripped down Bakura's cheek, to the ground. Bakura was melting. The silvermind didn't seem to notice. He stepped closer to Marik.

"Warmth," he breathed. "Not enough."

Marik nodded. He wrapped his arms around Bakura. And then the fire spirit put his lips against the cold silver ones. Willingly the silvermind answered to kiss, looking for warmth, where ever he could find it.

There were now streams of liquid silver running down from everywhere of his body. His fingertips were tripping away, his silver cloths melting into his skin as Marik pressed himself more against the silvermind. There was a poodle of silver forming around his legs.

Marik ended the kiss, and the blazing man, raising his eyebrows looked deeply into empty eyes.

"Warm," said Bakura and smiled. "Thank you."

Then he collapsed down and melted into something unrecognizable. Marik tilted his head, as he stared at the pool of silver. Then closing his eyes he disappeared.

Malik and Yami stared at each other. Malik smiled nervously before walking away.

* * *

Yami sat in front of now solid silver pool.

That was the only thing that was left of his silvermind. Bakura was gone. Yami sighed. It was over. Maybe he should just start form the beginning, start a new life, maybe get a wife, start a family.

Yami stood up, when he noticed something not completely melted in the mass of silver. He walked closer to it.

A heart.

It was a small silver heart, half melted.

Someone had finally melted it.

Silvermind's cold silver heart.


End file.
